


The One in Which there is a Wooden Dowel

by Emmalie22



Series: Merlin Holmes [6]
Category: Merlin (TV), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arthur Finds Out, BAMF John, BAMF Merlin, Implied Slash, John-centric, Merlin is a Little Shit, Oblivious Arthur, POV John Watson, Protective Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8726137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmalie22/pseuds/Emmalie22
Summary: Arthur tires to relate the cute innocent Merlin he knows with the hardened assassin he has in his mind while also wanting to protect him. So he invites John Watson to tea and shenanigans ensue. This is the sixth in the series. I suggest reading those first.





	

Prince Arthur asked John to tea. He questioned his entire life.

He had to be escorted in through the bloody palace, and a frighteningly big security guard escorted him.

John didn't know what to say, and he almost made a comment about the weather.

He was, however, saved by the man stating, "You know Merlin."

"Umm, Yes," John nodded, "He is my-" flatmate, best friend, platonic soul mate, "friend's younger brother."

The man asked, "Sherlock?"

John nodded, "You know Sherlock?"

The man- who John now realized hasn't learned his name, laughed questioning, "Doesn't everybody?"

Another security team man- secret service against maybe- came up next to the large guard. He was shorter than the tall man with mid length dark hair that slightly curled at the end and mischievous eyes. Unlike the first, he seemed to contradict the silent and frightening stereotype of secret service agents.

Not that he didn't look like he could beat up some people, but just that it was more likely to happen outside of a bar.

"Leon my man, I thought we all agreed we would never discuss the Sherlock incident," he voice was boisterous and John wondered if he had to sold Sherlock for something he had done.

The newly christened Leon grunted, "Gwaine what are you doing here?"

"The Princess changed the room he they are having tea in. Something about cleaning season and Uther," Gwaine glanced to John, "Sure you don't want anything stronger in than tea. I'm sure that the Princess won't mind."

Arthur didn't seem like the type to let his men call him Princess, but what did John know?

John realized Gwaine was staring at him asking him for an answer. "No, I'm good," John managed out after clearing his throat.

"I'll take him," Gwaine offered. Leon nodded briskly before turning and walking away.

"I'm more fun anyways," Gwaine chirped happily.

They walked for awhile as Gwaine droned on about an experience he had with some super models. John zoned out, wondering what in the hell the prince wanted to talk to John about.

"-and she did the most filthy thing with her tongue. You know what I mean?"

John nodded absently.

If John had been paying attention, he would have noticed the glint in Gwiane's eyes.

"But that's nothing compared to what Sherlock can do right. I mean have you seen the man's fingers. Wouldn't you say John?"

John nodded again absentmindedly.

"I knew it!" Gwiane pumped his fist.

John blinked, "Umm... What?"

"Sherlock and you have a thing. Or had a thing?"

"Neither, I'm straight," John didn't even sigh. He had answered this line of questioning enough that it was almost expected.

"Yeah, you tell that to Sherlock. The guy talks about you as if you hung the moon," Gwiane smiled.

"I'm married," John told him.

"Kinky motherfucker. Your girl into it? You don't seem like the type to cheat. Unless it's an unrequited thing. In that case, Sherlock and his brother are more alike than even I thought."

"Gwaine, what lies are you filling his head with," the Prince interrupted them before John could die from humiliation.

Gwiane grinned ear to ear. "No lies pass these lips."

Arthur snorted, "Gwiane, the day when you no longer spin lies is the day I wake up and realize I'm a reincarnation of a Medieval King."

"Well I mean it could happen. Hypothetically..."

"Gwaine, do you have anywhere to be?"

The man rolled his eyes, winked at John, and turned around to strut down the hall.

What an interesting man, John thought. Not the type one would think to be a guard for the royal family, but John imagined Princes needed friends too.

Arthur greeted John with, "Sooo..." And then continued you, "Thank you for coming."

"Uh," John stumbled for words, "my pleasure your highness."

"None of that. As you can probably see, I'm not much for titles. Merlin made sure of that."

"Okay... Arthur," John stood awkwardly in the doorway. Should be enter? Should be wait to be invited in?

Arthur nodded at him, then turned around and marched into the room.

John followed.

They sat down, and stared at each other for a couple of seconds.

"Not that I don't appreciate being asked to tea, but is there a particular reason you wanted me here?" John busied his hands pouring the sugar for his tea.

"How do you treat Sherlock?" Arthur finally asked.

"Hmm?" John didn't quite know what he was referring to.

"Merlin is so smart. I mean, the man is also a complete idiot, but he's so smart. I mean he used to say these strangely wise things and sometimes seemed to predict the future, but he was always such a dork!"

John felt offended on Merlin's behalf.

Arthur continued, "Now, he tells me. He'll look me in the eye and tell me that the man walking across the street is former KGB, or that the car up ahead is going to rear end the one in front of it. And it does!"

Arthur then banged his hand into head and proclaimed in a devastated voice, "He's smart! I don't know what to do."

John stared at the Royal. "What do you want me to do?"

"How do you treat Sherlock. He's the same right?"

"He never pretended to be anything but. I just placate his ego and tell him he's smart, and inform him when he's out of line." John shrugged.

"Merlin has no ego. I mean, I tell him all the time he has one, but he really doesn't. That won't work." Arthur shook his head.

"Just treat him the way you've been treating him." John suggested.

"You want me to continue to call him and idiot and throw things at him?" Arthur asked.

"What?" John proclaimed, "You throw things at him?" He was incredulous. No wonder Sherlock didn't like the Prince.

Arthur liked a little ashamed, "We have- had- a strange friendship."

John started at the man. Arthur ears got a little red.

"So you mean to tell me you want my help on how to treat Merlin now that you can no longer throw things at the man and call him degrading names because you know he can catch what you throw at him and is highly intelligent?" John questioned incredulously.

"Yes!" Arthur exclaimed, "Exactly."

John was deeply worried for the country if this was their future King. How was this his life again?

"So," Arthur prompted, "any advice?"

John floundered for a few seconds. Thankful, the Prince was saved from an earful by a crashing noise.

The Windows behind him shattered and five masked figures make their way into the room. They had guns, and John yanked the Prince down to the floor.

Security rushed in, and John could hear gunshots as the men traded fire.

"Fuck," John muttered. He didn't have his gun on him, and he was blinded by the ornate coaches. They were literally sitting ducks.

Then another figure blasted in from the ceiling of all places.

Merlin sprung to the floor landing on one of the men, knocking him out. He grinned insanely.

John started at the young man. He was almost completely naked except for a pair of badly fitted shorts. His hair was wet, he had no shoes on, and in one of his hands, he held some sort of long staff. John strained to get a better look.

John's jaw fought with a stick. A fucking stick. Literally a wooden dowel looking thing that maybe had a light polish on it.

Nonetheless, he moved lethally among the attackers. For being so tall, he held a very low center of balance.

Merlin was a badass, John would attest to that. Sherlock was pretty decent at fighting, if a bit awkward in his movements. He was practical to the point of jerky as if he didn't desire to waste energy.

Merlin brother held no such inhibitions. With a fluidity that John didn't know was possible, Merlin danced among the attackers with some sort of Asian fighting style.

The seriousness in Merlin's eyes looked so extremely out of character, and yet totally natural on the man's face.

Merlin wasn't a young man in that moment, but something ancient and powerful bringing a reckoning to the attackers.

It contested heavily with his shorts slipping further down his hips, and the ridiculousness of his choice of weapon.

For some reason, the men were fumbling with their guns. They weren't going off, and the men started to argue violently in another language. One of the men got to the point that they chucked his gun at the wall and turned to face Merlin.

There were three down and two to go. John started making his way towards the fight.

Merlin stood imperviously against two huge men. John saw his eyes asses them, calculating, before lasting out and jamming the dowel between one of the men's and twisting it up so that it crashed against the back of one of his knees resulting in a lock cracking sound. The man cried out, and slipped backwards his head hitting the ground with a resounding thunk.

He groaned and made a move to get back up, but Merlin took the stick and smashed it onto the man's groin. John groaned at the thought. He took the stick and smashed it against the man's head. He passed out.

All the while this was going on, for the six or seven seconds it took, the other man was making his way towards Arthur and John.

Running at them across the long ballroom, he looked like a football player preparing for the tackle.

Merlin had other ideas. He took the wooden dowel and launched it like a spear across the room and it smacked into the man's neck. He crumpled and Merlin was on him.

For a second, it looked as if he was about to kill the man, or at the very least hurt him very badly, but Arthur spoke up. "Merlin," he said shakily.

"I," Merlin paused and released his grip on the man. He blinked rapidly and, for a second, he looked his age.

Guards rushed forward to apprehend the last of the attackers and Merlin took a couple of steps back.

His eyes flashed to Arthur, then to John, and finally back to Arthur.

"I'm sorry," Merlin told him, "I should have known about the attack. I shouldn't have," then he continued very quietly, "done that in front of you."

Arthur shook his head rapidly, "This isn't your job."

"But I should have know. My contacts in Siberia were to let me know if the Catha were planning something! You could have gotten hurt," this was the truest emotion that John had ever heard from the young man. Merlin bit his lip and said, "I could have lost you."

Arthur then exploded, "How do you think I feel! You went from being my highly incompetent assistant to somebody who runs around fighting people for a living. Every time you leave the Palace I'm worried you won't come back."

John realized in this moment, that he was way out of his depth.

"I won't stop protecting you," Merlin told him.

"Then allow me to protect you! Take Gwaine when you go out. Tell me where you are," Arthur insisted.

"I lead a small army worth of devoted individuals and it's not like I need protection," Merlin argued.

Arthur bit his lip. After watching this exchange John realized what Gwaine was alluding to. John sincerely hoped that Sherlock and him didn't sound like this.

They probably did. No wonder people made assumptions.

Merlin shook his head and relented, "I'll take Lance with me. He's a Druid anyways."

"He is?!" Arthur's eyes widened. Merlin shrugged.

The room settled, and John steadily backed out trying to think of an excuse to leave.

Arthur glanced down at Merlin, "Why are you dressed like that?"

Merlin gave them a lopsided grin, "I heard the alarms when I was in the shower. I might have borrowed a pair of shorts from someone on the way over."

Arthur's jaw dropped and John now could now place the wooden dowel as a shower curtain holder. John felt bad for the poor that Merlin has stolen from. He could only imagine the man's confusion- the Prince's servant running naked down the halls, attacking him, and taking his pants.

Arthur should offer the man counseling.

The Prince voice resounded around the room as he shouted, "Merlin, you idiot."

Merlin grinned, "It' better than being a prat."

They dissolved into an argument that John thought was probably usual. A man on the other side of the room groaned in pain, and Merlin and Arthur walked out of the room together arguing leaving John alone with the fallen attackers.

John stared at the men and shook his head. He left. Those men were not his to deal with.

Later that afternoon a poor maid entered a cleaning cabinet to grab a broom only to be presented with a half naked man lying on the floor passed out. John read about it in the papers.


End file.
